


those eyes add insult to injury

by 5ambreakdown



Series: folklore [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Canon Divergent If You Squint, Coda, Episode: s04e07 The Barbecue, M/M, Missing Scene, but dan levy technically never said no to this so i'm taking creative liberties, but y'all already know how this ends, only on a technicality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ambreakdown/pseuds/5ambreakdown
Summary: Something instinctual in him wants nothing more than to run out from the bathroom and hold Patrick, just hold him and be in each other’s arms and cry and be mad and hurt and just feel everything together. David doesn’t want to be stuck in this small space with nothing but mildew and a leaky faucet to keep him company. He wants Patrick.or, patrick finds himself back in david's room at the motel after he talks to rachel.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: folklore [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925257
Comments: 9
Kudos: 150





	those eyes add insult to injury

**Author's Note:**

> a "the barbecue" coda from me was only inevitable, but i like to think that this could very well have happened canonly. we know they texted and all during that week, i just like the idea of them immediately having some sort of time together. anyway, this is just a giant excuse for me to get inside david's head during a moment of simultaneous hurt and growth for him.
> 
> i almost wrote something _very_ cannon divergent and very heavy for this prompt, but i'm working that into a chaptered fic instead.
> 
> title is from "exile" by taylor swift.

Afraid he will do something reckless upon seeing him again, David hides in the bathroom while Patrick goes to retrieve food from the picnic table. David hears the cautious opening of the door and the soft patters he instinctively recognizes as Patrick’s anxious movements. He rests his head against the closed door, as if it will bring him closer to Patrick and far, far away from the deadly turn the day took. It can’t do any of that, but at the very least it allows him to hear a little better.

There’s a pause, then the quiet shuffling of what David assumes is his dinner being placed carefully on the small table. It’s quiet for a few moments. Sensing Patrick is working up the nerve to say something, to leave David with some sort of goodbye that signifies a respect of his wishes but is by no means final, David holds in his breath, eyes closed and forehead pressed against the door even closer. 

He hears Patrick let out a shuddering breath. He imagines him there, tense, shoulders tight and eyes downcast. He knows Patrick is hurting, that he knows he fucked up and is working through his own shock by Rachel’s appearance.

Something instinctual in him wants nothing more than to run out from the bathroom and hold Patrick, just hold him and be in each other’s arms and cry and be mad and hurt and just _feel_ everything together. David doesn’t want to be stuck in this small space with nothing but mildew and a leaky faucet to keep him company. He wants Patrick. Even though he’s pissed he didn’t tell him about Rachel, even though this feels all too reminiscent of past relationships, he just wants Patrick, because Patrick is the only one who can comfort David through this. Because Patrick is different.

David knows Patrick would never intentionally hurt him, that he actually cares about and trusts David. His kindness and interest was helping to heal David’s wounds, building him up into a stronger, better person, one capable of sincerity and trust. So that’s exactly why David needs to stay locked in place until Patrick leaves.

He knows that going out there is falling back into old habits. He knows that if he walks back out that door he’ll see Patrick, absolutely devastated, and will block out his own hurt, just like he's done a thousand times before. David knows that walking out that door is walking past all of this and accepting that what happened is nothing. It’s not nothing, though. Patrick lied, Patrick had David’s trust and he lied. David is allowed to be hurt, to feel betrayed. In the past, he would take whatever he could; he would give his partners anything in return for even a fraction of their attention. He wouldn’t even have batted an eyelash if this happened with anyone else, because that’s what he grew to expect. He never thought he deserved better. He deserves better, though. He deserves honesty and respect in a relationship. Patrick taught him that. 

So he can’t go out there and wrap his arms around his boyfriend, because his boyfriend fucked up, and David deserves time.

Patrick’s knuckles tap on the table. “I don’t mean to rush you, at all, but I’m here. Whenever you want to talk. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I’m just- I’m sorry, David. I promise I’m going to make this right.” His voice cracks at the end, and it takes all of David’s remaining strength to choke back the sobs starting to break through.

One of the most important people in the world to him, normally so steady and confident, is about to burst at the seams. No one else will see it. Maybe Rachel will, but that’s beside the point. Patrick is good at bottling his emotions. He has a strong, securely placed filter so that no one actually sees him unless he wants them to. No one in David’s family sees Patrick like he does, the way Moira said just hours earlier that he sees David. That makes everything worse, knowing that the only other person Patrick has is holed away in a motel bathroom. They’re in the same position and can’t do anything about it.

Once he hears the door to the room close, he flings open the bathroom door, launching himself out into the small room.

And all he sees is fucking Patrick. 

He’s never even so much as spent the night with David in the motel, yet all he can see is reminders of his boyfriend. The framed receipt from their first sale at the store. David, sitting at the table with Alexis, telling her about their first date. The feeling of floating into the motel after that night at Stevie’s. Rushing into the room, Patrick trailing behind him planting kisses wherever he could, to haphazardly pack an overnight bag for Ray’s after their first open mic night. The fucking massive cookie that is just sitting on his bed, taunting him.

Awkward and slightly pathetic as it was, David was excited by this anniversary. He was excited that Patrick wasn’t just another name on a long, disastrous list of exes. 

David is lying on the floor next to his bed, failing to remember how he got there. His entire face is wet from tears and his throat is sore. It feels like someone ripped all his insides, cut them up, and shoved them back in all the wrong places.

He’s so out of sorts. His head is foggy and achy from the crying. He has no idea what time it is. Somehow, a blanket is over him, and he’s trying to figure out how that happened when it registers that Patrick is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him.

David’s voice is hoarse, “How long have you been sitting there?”

“About five minutes.” Patrick doesn’t seem to be doing much better.

David turns his head to look up at Patrick. His face is blotchy, the rims of his eyes red. He looks drained. In his state, he should be right next to David on the floor.

David wants to fling himself into Patrick, but he holds himself down.

“I’m sorry. I realized I left my keys and wallet in here from earlier and Alexis said you weren’t in here, but I guess she was wrong.”

“Yeah, Alexis hasn’t really been that helpful today.”

Patrick forces out a laugh, but lacks the cheer and shine he’s come to know as Patrick’s.

David’s stomach clenches. 

“Did you talk to her?”

Patrick looks down at his hands in his lap. He nods, on the verge of tears. 

“It didn’t go well, did it?”

“I’ve had… better talks with her.”

David hums solemnly in response.

It’s quiet for a few moments, neither man knowing what to say - what could they? Eventually, David fails at subtly clearing his throat, wincing as he does so. “So, um, I take it that since she, uh, came here, I guess, that your family doesn’t know…” he trails off, not wanting to say it aloud.

He’s been people’s secret before, but this was different. It’s been four months, the longest anyone has stuck around, and, from all of David’s careful observations, Patrick hasn’t grown disinterested, not in the slightest. If anything, he seems to want David more and more each day. He could always see his breakups coming, knowing what signs to look for so he could prolong the inevitable. Patrick showed no sign of wanting to leave.

 _Shows_ no sign - he came back for David. Twice - once to follow him (which, for what it’s worth, none of his exes would have ever done), and for the second time when he sat down in front of David when it would have been so easy to slip in and grab his things undetected or to have Stevie or Alexis grab them. No, instead, he’s sitting in front of David, eyes staring hard at the hands in his lap like it physically hurts to look anywhere else.

David can’t keep his eyes off him. So he sees the smallest shaking of Patrick’s head in response to David’s not-quite-a-question. He sees him wince as he swallows, the lines in his forehead creasing even tighter. He sees the tears starting to well up in his eyes, but he knows Patrick won’t dare allow himself to cry until he's alone in his bed because he doesn’t feel justified doing it here in front of David when this whole mess is his fault.

David’s entire chest clenches when he realizes that all he wants to do is wrap Patrick up and kiss him until those tears will free themselves. He wants to hold Patrick while he cries and sobs and clutches onto David. He wants to rock him gently until his breathing evens out and he physically can not cry anymore. He wants to kiss every little bit of his skin until he’s smiling that stupid upside down smile that he can’t get enough of.

David is so scared that his heart is going to burst out of his chest and bleed out onto the floor in front of them. The only time he’s ever wanted to comfort someone after they’ve fucked up is Alexis, and he doesn’t have the emotional bandwidth to process what that implies.

“Well,” David says slowly, his voice low and only a little unsure, “I’m proud of you.” He nods, but he’s not really sure why.

Patrick’s eyes shoot up and bare into David’s. They’re slightly bloodshot and glassy, the bags under his eyes heavy, the dark circles around them made even more prominent by an increased paleness in his skin

“Are we going to be okay, David?” It’s hardly above a whisper. Incredibly shaky, the complete opposite of the man he cares so much about. Patrick always puts himself out as steady and sure, even when David knows he isn’t; they started to break that down, and now all he can see is Patrick looking so small and scared and fragile. 

David’s chest contracts a little more. 

He breathes in deeply, refusing to break Patrick’s gaze. “Yes,” he says decisively. “We will be.” And then he nods to affirm it. 

Patrick nods, lowering his head back down to look back at his hands. He’s playing with the fingers on his right hand, twisting each one like David does his rings. 

_Oh._

He seems to be thinking something over, so David lets him. In all honesty, he wants Patrick to stay here, in this tiny little hellscape that’s been his home over the past few years, until they can walk out the door together hand-in-hand, every single issue from today and before resolved. David knows that can’t happen, though. But he can let Patrick take a few moments to think, work out whatever he needs to before braving the inevitable Rachel-ness and gossiping of drama travelling too quickly of it all. David wants to shield him from all of it, but they need this, a little bit of space so they can come back to each other a little stronger as individuals. Because they absolutely will come back from this. David doesn’t know how or why - because nothing in his past should lead him to believe this - but he’s not scared for their future. He _sees_ a future with Patrick. Not some fantasy where David can convince him to stay, but something realistic. Working the store, cooking dinner together, buying a house. It’s terrifying but it feels true, and that doesn’t scare David in the slightest. They just need to work through this thing right now, and that they can do. He’s sure of it. 

Patrick looks up at David once again, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped under his chin. “I’m going to make this right, David. I’m going to fix it, I promise.” He sounds completely sure of himself, and David can’t help at relaxing just a little knowing his boyfriend is finding his footing again.

David nods. “I know,” he whispers, hoping the fondness and trust and hurt that he feels is something Patrick is picking up on. From the quiet way he stands up and softly opens and closes the door, David knows he heard it. He’s able to smile a little bit to himself, because every bit of him believes what Patrick said.


End file.
